


A Small Slice of Ethereal P.I.E.

by EnderAmethyst



Series: Investigators and Entities [3]
Category: VenturianTale Characters (Web Series)
Genre: ??????ish, Also Gavin is a bastard in this and like super evil in this, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Depression, Do you just want me to suffer ao3?, Explicit Language, Ghost Hunters, Ghost! Johnny Ghost, Graphic Description, I almost forgot to put jimmy lmao, I can and will project my pottymouth onto characters, I mean its definitely at least, Idiots in Love, Kinda spoilers oops but like it's revealed in like the third paragraph or smth so, Let Johnny Ghost Say Fuck, Pain, Panic Attacks, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, The rating is mostly for the swearing btw, Time Travel, Torture, all my homies hate editing tags, amie would never swear though, being 20x gayer than the original, but dont let that lead you to believe i dont love him with my whole ass heart, but dont worry about the nasty stuff im asexual, does this count as, everyone deserves to be happy and live their best life, fuck editing tags, god these tags are horrendous, god what a change in tone im so sorry, he kill himself first chapter please dont read this if that will trigger you!!, i am a disgrace to the fandom, i describe the thoughts too and don't outright condemn them because its not in character, i had to edit these what a pain, i originally gave them a combined sum of zero braincells, idiots to lovers, idk - Freeform, if you suffer from depression please seek help, im gonna stop now this is a disaster, im not that mean, it also features Amie being the ONLY voice of reason and she is TIRED, jesus just read the fic already please dont look at my sins, just in case you were worried, like seriously, no beta we die like men, oh and, oh btw im not kidding about those archive warnings, oh shoot, oh yeah i personally hc amie as having died in french witch trials soooooo :), okay ill actually stop now, or would she?, pain and heartbreak only, slight hint at a Time Loop but its not super obvious, so I will keep it there as long as this work is still up, so ill be generous in this and them one...to share >:), sorry about that but also someone might need to hear it, this fic features:, two idiots in love but theyre too angsty to notice it, why cant i drag them???, yall i dont know what else to put, you included. yes you. i hear you thinking youre an exception, you should probably read the original fic too if you read this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27505333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnderAmethyst/pseuds/EnderAmethyst
Summary: Johnny Ghost has heard a voice in his head for as long as he can remember - which to be fair, memory isn't his strongest suit, as he's unable to remember almost anything from his childhood, let alone the chunks of time missing from his memory throughout his life, but nonetheless - it cackles at death and mocks those who succumb to it, and threatens to hurt those he cares about. Ghost knows the time loss he suffers from isn't a coincidence either. Sometimes he can't escape the feeling of phantom blood on his hands, unable to wash it away. Memories lingering at the edges of his mind so faint that the seem as though they've been hidden away haunt his dreams. Hundreds of news articles about a mysterious killer pepper the internet, and Ghost can't help but notice the few survivors' descriptions sound much too similar to him. One day, his sins will catch up to him, he knows. And the price might be something worth more than even Ghost's own life.
Relationships: (Implied???), Johnny Ghost/Johnny Toast
Series: Investigators and Entities [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1314419
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, yo, yo! how are yall doing at this fine hour of exactly 3:00 in the morning?! Your girl decided she would Finally rewrite ASSOEP! I know that most of you are here for the nostalgia of VT's early days so I am here to deliver :D I hope you enjoy my slightly longer, significantly better-written first chapter - I tried to stay true to the original material while making the details and continuity make a little more sense, especially in these early chapters haha. The second chapter is coming soon since it's already written; thanks Adderall!

Ghost opened his eyes, blinking once, and looked out across the darkening horizon, eyes automatically drawn to the brilliant colors of the sunset. It took him a moment to realize there was a sound coming from behind him and he turned to see what it was.

A figure hunched over something just a foot or so away, obscuring it. The mop of dark, slicked-back hair slowly undid its sleek styling with each sob that wracked the person’s frame.

Ghost stepped to the right, leaning to see what was under them. Something in him turned at the familiarity of the situation, though he couldn’t quite place what it was. It was then that he spotted the messenger bag peeking out from under them. He glanced down to his side - missing.

_“The Hell is--?”_ Ghost muttered, taking a step forward.

As he spoke, a small box on the person’s belt gave a shrill beep, and their head shot up in alarm - revealing the body beneath them. Its startlingly familiar face made his heart rise to his throat. He drops to his knees just as the man he recognizes all too well shouts, “Fuck off! Can’t you see I’m busy here?!”

Ghost isn’t expecting the wave of memories, but suddenly he’s hit with the past few hours like they’ve been rewound and sped up for his own personal viewing displeasure. 

he voice, the walk, the thoughts, the knife, the wound, the pain; it all comes rushing in and placing itself directly where it belongs in his mind - like a missing puzzle piece finally found. He thinks he might be screaming through the haze fogging up his thoughts, and he thinks the EMF detector might be screaming somewhere far off, and when he finally gathers enough courage to look back up his eyes meet with the barrel of a gun pointed directly at his forehead. He jerks back, only realizing he’s hit the lamppost when the light overhead threatens to plunge them both into darkness.

Johnny stares not quite at Ghost, as if gazing through him - and if Ghost's memories can be trusted, that's probably exactly what he's doing - gun raised to point at Ghost’s chest. It shook in Johnny’s hand, his finger teetering dangerously close to the trigger button before wobbling away uncertainly. Finally, Toast snapped, “I don’t have time for this, okay?! I-I have to...to do something for him...” He trailed off, before saying, more to himself than anything, “Maybe I can still save him-! He’s-He’s still bleeding so maybe...maybe…” His voice cracked and he looked back at Ghost’s limp form desperately, and Ghost considered for a moment - but only a moment - about doing something stupid. His hand even got so far as to jerk forward slightly in a half aborted attempt to reach out and put a comforting hand on Johnny’s shoulder. He stops himself only because of the memories lingering in the back of his mind like a bad aftertaste. It’s almost as if it’s been pushed to the front of his mind by some unknown force when he remembers the reason behind why he did what he did: the hopelessness and despair he felt knowing one day he would have to pay for his sins; the horrifying thought that that price might just be the life of the person dearest to him - that one day his demons might decide Johnny’s soul was worth more than his own.

So instead, Johnny uses Johnny’s moment of distraction to tiptoe his way over to the puddle of blood pooling on the concrete beneath his quickly cooling body - all the while staunchly avoiding meeting his own eyes - and dipped his fingers into it, writing as best he can on the rough surface,  _ “Im srry 4 ur loss.” _ He grimaced at the morbid texture of it before wiping on his pants with a look of displeasure.

Johnny’s eyes darted from where he was staring into Ghost’s lifeless eyes to where the sentence seemingly wrote itself, following the letters as, unbeknownst to him, Ghost wrote them. Ghost watched solemnly as he flipped through seemingly hundreds of emotions in the span of seconds, before finally setting on indignant rage. “And why do you care?! It’s none of your business!” He snapped. He glanced back to Ghost’s corpse and seemed to wilt, finally dropping the arm holding the gun to his side, and muttered to himself as if his heart itself was tearing in two, “God, this is all my fault. I should have got here faster. Goddamnit--if I had just driven a little faster.”

Ghost’s eyes widened at Johnny’s words; at the very thought that this was his fault, rather than Ghost damning himself for his own sins.

But if he thought about it a little more, maybe it was his fault, in a backward, roundabout way. It was Johnny’s fault for being the only person Johnny Ghost cared about more than life itself; for being the only person in the entire world that he would give his life up for to save, over, and over, and over. Johnny was his entire world, his everything, so even if it meant dying again and again, Ghost would gladly give that if it meant Johnny could live happily without the burden of Ghost on his shoulders anymore.

Even if that meant leaving him forever.


	2. Burial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toast mourns as his best friend's body is buried and has a chat with his mysterious follower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohohohoh guess who's back with another chapter! This one's shorter than I thought it was, but to be fair the original was like less than 400 words long. Anyway, enjoy watching the idiots be emotionally constipated!

Toast practically felt every layer of freshly packed dirt between him and the lifeless body of what was once his best friend. He stood in front of the grave marked “Jonathan Ghost, Beloved Friend and Son,” watching as the clouds hung in the sky as if in trepidation, waiting for the right moment to show the world their grief. Toast could relate.

The service had been short, but that’s what Sir would have wanted. His will had stated that if he were to die, Toast would get most of his belongings, along with ownership of P.I.E. and the deed to P.I.E. HQ. He left about half of his savings to Toast, and the other half to his mother.

Before the morgue could dispose of anything from the body, Toast asked the morgue if it was possible to salvage the messenger bag and its contents, and they said they’d try, and that he’d have to wait a few days until they got back to him on it.

Eventually, the first of many raindrops hit the ground, then his shoulder, pulling his attention away from the perfect rectangle of dirt separating him and the coffin below. He scanned the sparse treeline, finally spotting the faint anomaly where the air seemed somehow “thicker” than its surroundings, warping the background ever so slightly. The anomaly shifted when he spotted it, revealing its human-shaped silhouette. With one last glance at the grave beside him, he turned and made his way toward the old maple tree it was standing under. Its form wavered in place for a second, as if deciding whether to stay or go. After a moment it seemed to make up its mind - stay it was then.

“Why are you watching some stranger’s funeral? Don’t you have better things to haunt?”

The irregularity hesitated for a moment as if considering the best response to his question. _“Well, I find that ‘forever’ is a bit long to be roaming some musty old building, y’know?”_

“But why here? Surely you have better things to do with eternity than watch some random man mourn a loved one, right?”

_“Probably, but someone who’s mourning is oftentimes at their most vulnerable. Someone might as well take it upon themselves to keep an eye out for things who try to take advantage of those who are vulnerable like that.”_

“Why me? Why out of the thousands of people mourning at this very moment would you choose me? There’s a couple mourning their dead child just a few hundred feet away; why not them instead?”

_“Because they have each other. Who will you lean on in these times of grief?”_

“You realize I have a family too right? I could go to any of them!”

_“But will you?”_

“Wh-- What?”

_“You_ **_can_ ** _go to them, but_ **_will_ ** _you?”_

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

_“Why are they not at this funeral - the funeral of someone you held dear? Why would you not ask them to support you in your time of need if you were willing to lean on them when you were in distress? Either this person did not mean much to you - in which case you would not grieve so heavily as you are - or you do not trust in your family to be there to comfort and support you in difficult times; or they have rejected your invitation to the funeral, for whatever reason. So which is it?”_

“I...I don’t have to tell you anything.”

_“And yet, that is an answer in and of itself.”_

All Toast could muster in response was a disgruntled sigh.

The silence stretched between them - it wasn’t quite a tense silence, but neither was it exactly comfortable, the distance between their bodies just a bit too far apart to seem together, yet too close to seem separate.

“I just don’t understand why he did it, you know? He seemed perfectly fine just a few days before, and then...I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”

A gust of wind blew past, pelting any unlucky souls outside with frigid droplets. Several people in the headstone-peppered field picked up their paces, heading for shelter.

Toast stayed where he was.

_“...I think that to him, it was the only thing he could do.”_ The distortion turned, presumably looking down at the brown square amongst the green, a solemn symbol of death. _“Maybe he felt alone, or like a burden. Maybe he thought the world would be better off without him.”_   
  


Toast didn’t respond, instead choosing to follow the thing’s line of sight to the grave below, hoping that it assumed the tear rolling down his cheek was simply a stray drop of rain he was wiping away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy, I sure do love causing pain and suffering! Hope there's more of that in future updates! >:)))))


	3. Energy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something wicked comes this way, but first, let's hear about a couple of incidents from Ghost regarding his powers!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being a day late lmao, I was preparing dishes for today's festivities with my mom. This one's a bit messy but I'm honestly too busy today to worry about it too much haha. Happy thanksgiving y'all, hope you have a good time! Be sure to social distance and wear your masks if possible, Especially if you're going to a family event! Oh and enjoy the latest chapter~

Death, more often than not, often defies one’s expectations. Ghost was aware of this, yet he hadn’t expected his world to shift so suddenly when he’d chosen his path. He had assumed - quite incorrectly, much to his surprise - that when he next opened his eyes he would be met with the sight of pillars of flame, or perhaps a looming demonic figure, or even just a dark, empty room, sentenced to isolation for eternity for his deeds.

So when he opened his eyes to concrete and blood, he’d thought it must be temporary - a short reprieve before the eternal suffering awaiting his damned soul. But nothing seemed to change. He watched his own funeral from a distance, thinking,  _ Now, the illusion will finally fade - now, my punishment will come. _

He didn’t dare creep any closer, lest he draw Toast’s attention to himself. No, rather, he stands under an old maple tree on a nearby hill, hoping that its shade was enough to hide him. So when Toast glanced up from Ghost’s headstone and caught his eyes, he felt his heart sink, and when he walked up the hill to meet him - just as the first few drops of rain began to fall - Ghost can practically see his plans to keep a distance flying out the proverbial window. Coupled with the fact that during their brief conversation, Ghost had to send warning glares to several wandering souls who seemed just a bit too interested in Toast for comfort - he finds that leaving Toast to fend for himself just might be a  _ tad bit _ more difficult than he’d expected.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Toast never expressly stated that Ghost could follow him around, but he never directly told him to leave either - Ghost could only assume that he was too drained from mourning to worry about a so-far-harmless ghost tailing him - and he took full advantage of that. The thought of leaving Toast alone when Ghost saw so much that he couldn’t sent anxiety gnawing at the pit of his stomach. And if leaving him alone normally was anxiety-inducing, then leaving him to do  _ missions  _ by himself was just unthinkable. 

It took a lot of energy to talk, but like Hell was he gonna let that stop him from pulling Toast’s arm and shouting - well, as close to shouting as he could get, which was more like a panicked whisper than anything -  _ “Behind you!” _ when the entity they (Well, technically the customer only hired toast, but still.  _ They _ .) were searching for lunged directly at Toast’s neck. The resulting days where he felt as though he hadn’t slept in weeks worth it in his opinion, even if he was nearly impaled by one of several salt bullets shot where he had been standing moments prior. Thankfully, one happened to knick the entity instead, revealing its location and knocking it off balance long enough to be caught.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Neither of them wanted to admit it, but they could both tell that as time went on Ghost’s power was steadily increasing. As the number of missions they did together grew, so did the aura of energy flowing around him. What once had been a translucent distortion of air had now solidified into something akin to dense smoke, and tiny wisps floated off of his humanoid form before dissipating as if trying to escape. White, pupilless eyes sat where his brown ones once stood, stark against the otherwise featureless silhouette of his face. Many of the lower level ghosts wouldn’t come near him anymore, which, if he’s being perfectly honest, pleased him more than he’d like to admit. (Toast, however, was quite disgruntled every time the entity he’d been paid to eradicate disappeared without him doing anything.)

Eventually, however, Toast was forced to confront him about the issue when the EMF meter kept malfunctioning due to his presence.

“You can’t keep following me around. I have a job to do and if you get in my way I’ll have to exorcise you. At this point, you’re more of a hindrance than you are helpful.” He grumbled something more, but Ghost tuned him out in favor of listening to the fast-approaching wail from somewhere down the endless corridor.

“I’ll have to start considering you a threat one of these days-”

From the void sprung forth a man marred with burns, blank eyes locked onto Toast’s back as it snarled. Unheard by his target, he leaped, disfigured, claw-like hands outstretched and ready to strike.

The man’s head swiveled in shock when instead of flesh and bone, his claws were met with surprisingly tangible smoke. He tore his hand away from its smokey prison, tendrils of vapor flowing from the wound it left behind. He growled again, close enough now to be heard by the person Ghost had narrowly intercepted him from attacking. Yet, Toast still didn’t acknowledge the man just a few feet behind him.

Ghost’s vision darkened at the edges as he struggled against the pain emanating from his wound.  _ “I’m not your enemy and I never be will be,” _ he gritted out, hoping that would finally draw his attention. The static clawing at the edges of his vision expanded, and his head throbbed as he kicked the man off him, sending him sprawling.

Toast turned on his heel, prepared to start lecturing him, only to find the dark form of his companion pulling the silhouette of a knife from the man’s limp form. He cackled as he loomed above the slowly dissolving body, flicking the knife outwards to rid it of the ethereal goop coating its shadowed blade.

  
A manic voice echoed down the corridor, giggling psychotically between the words,  **“It’s good to be back!”**


	4. Guests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously titled 'Unhinged,' this chapter introduces two new characters as Toast struggles to keep up with the ever-spiraling series of events that happens in the span of less than half an hour. Ghost struggles to keep his secret, well, a secret, in the mean-time.

Just as the last of the body beneath it finally dissolved, the looming figure seemed to collect itself enough to converse with its company. It turned towards him, letting out a final giggle before saying in its unnaturally shrill voice,  **“It’s good to see you again Toaster-Stroodle, I missed you!”**

Distantly, Toast realized that the faint glow of its scarlet eyes should have lit the edges of the rest of its face’s features, but instead, its dark silhouette remained untouched, as if the light had been mercilessly absorbed into the void that stood before him. When it turned its gaze upon him, the cruel joy within them had Toast holding back a shiver.

“M-Missed me? Have we met before?” was all Toast could think to say as its cold eyes seemed to stare into his very soul.

**“** **_‘Have we met??’_ ** **Of course we’ve met Bagel-boy! You don’t recognize me?”** It squinted at him, cocking its head slightly, and Toast fought the urge to run -- just barely.

“I--Sorry, no I don’t.”

**“I’m hurt! We’ve known each other since we were…”** the thing trailed off, holding its head with a pained expression in its eyes.  **“Johnny-O’ it’s rude to interrupt people when they’re talking!”** it muttered after a moment. **  
** “H-Huh? But I didn’t--”

**“Not** **_you_ ** **,”** It cut him off with an irritated glance.

“What do you mean by-?”

**“Geez** **_fine,_ ** **but only because you’re giving me a worse headache than that time I went after that little--** **_OW!_ ** **Cool it, Johnny Blaze, we have company! I know you think you’re hot stuff but if you try another motorcycle stunt like that we’re gonna have to take your show off the air! You don’t want to become a different kind of smash hit now, do you?”**

**  
** “That’s quite enough, Monsieur,” a familiar cheery tone cut in from behind Toast, and the entity before him jolted before spitting a cat-like hiss from its nonexistent mouth. Toast could practically see its hackles rise.

He turned slightly to greet the new presence, being sure to keep the volatile ghost on his other side within his peripherals at all times.

His eyes were met with the sight of a girl in her late teens wearing an off-the-shoulder emerald green gown, with peach ruffles layered at the front. Around the skirt’s hem looked tattered and blackened as if burnt, and what looked to have once been matching pompadour heels, now half-charred, (with just enough fabric left undamaged to see there was once a pattern woven into the fabric, matching what was left of their fraying forest green ribbons, both tied neatly into bows.) couldn’t quite cover the marred skin of her ankle peeking through the holes in her dress’ lace trim. She wore pristine, lace gloves - chartreuse color out of place within the outfit’s otherwise limited color palette - thin enough that more patches of blistered skin peeked through the fabric.

The ginger locks framing her face swished elegantly as she turned to smile at Toast, greeting him in a pleasant tone, “Salut Monsieur Toast, who is your companion?”   
**“I ain’t anyone’s ‘companion’ Mrs. French-Already-Fried! And this is an** **_X/Z_ ** **conversation, so** **_Y_ ** **are you in it?!”**

“Ah,  _ Casket _ ,” She responded with barely hidden disdain. “I did not recognize you with your, how do you say...makeover... Did you make this one yourself or have you simply found another poor soul to leech off of?” Her bright rouge highlighted the way her lips turned up in a revulsed sneer, and Toast’s never wanted to be teleported 5000 miles away from his current location more. At this, ‘Casket’ twitched almost imperceptibly, before shaking its head slightly as if to physically shake it off.

Casket however just cackled and retorted,  **“Sorry to disappoint Frenchy but the answer is neither! I don’t even have a body anymore - gotta wait for this one’s soul to move on before I can detach from him, but it’s fine cause he’s been super fun to play with!”** it let out one last fit of laughter for good measure, looking her in the eye as her face paled and her disgust was replaced with a look of horror. It twitched again, quite obviously this time.

“That is a cruel joke to play, even for you Casket,” she said, attempting to school her features into a stern glare, though her eyes were just a bit too wide to be convincing.

**“Why would I joke about that?”** it asked, seeming genuinely curious, **“Seems kinda pointless to lie when it was my own knife that--”** The sentence hung in the air for a moment, incomplete, before it collapsed to the ground cradling its head in its hands. It began muttering something indecipherable under its breath, seemingly to itself, before convulsing and going limp. 

Steam-like tendrils wafted up from its body as it began to writhe again, and Toast couldn’t help but take a wary step back as it clawed at the ground desperately, shaking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Amie do the same.

Finally, it gasped, and its pitch-black silhouette faded into smokey grey, and when it looked up, Toast was met with a familiar pair of stark, white eyes, clouded with pain.

_ “H--Hey guys…How’s it, uh,” _ the entity stuttered out as they struggled to push themself into a sitting position. Their chest heaved from the exertion of sitting upright, and their speech slurred. They paused to gulp down a few lungfuls of air before croaking out,  _ “How’s it goin’?” _

From behind him, Toast heard a choked sob and turned to look just as Amie murmured a small, broken, “ _ Merde, _ ” before disappearing completely.

Everything is silent in the barren hall, save for the entity’s gasping, as they both stare at the space where Amie stood less than a second prior. Toast feels his knees wobble precariously, and he slides down the nearest grime-laden wall before they can collapse under him. He turns to look at the entity merely a few feet away and notices a gouge clawed out of what would be their heart if they were a living being. Smoke, almost identical to the smokey substance the rest of them was composed of, escaped from the wound, drifting upwards before dissolving into the air.

Before he even realized he had spoken, Toast blurted, “You’re hurt.” The ghost’s head snapped up, a startled look in their eyes. Internally cursing his big mouth, he hesitantly continued, “What can I do?”

Toast didn’t need to be told what he was doing was a terrible idea; It was all he could think about. It echoed through his mind like a scream bouncing off of a cave’s walls - and endless cacophony of  _ “This is such a bad idea,”  _ and  _ “Why am I helping them?”  _ and  _ “What am I doing?” _

But even as he mentally listed off all the reasons why he shouldn’t help them, he nonetheless found himself pulling their arm around his shoulder and walking them towards the nearest exit, noting absently that he could almost feel the weight of the body leaning against him.

In fact, if he really listened, he could just barely hear the quiet pit-pat of footsteps walking in time with his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am gay, and yes, I am in love with Amie, thanks for noticing <3
> 
> Anyway, sorry if Amie's description feels out of place, I'm just a little simp, no thoughts, head full of Amie wearing dresses that complement her red hair and green eyes.


End file.
